


What's Mine Is Yours

by SoU2019



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Bodyswap, Daddy Issues, Drama, Drinking, Ed is 20, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, PWP without Porn, Romance, Sharing a Bed, SoUarchive, lets ignore the iffyness of consent issues in bodyswap fics for a moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29482026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoU2019/pseuds/SoU2019
Summary: Ed glared at Mustang. “Ya know, maybe I’ll go get a drink at your favourite bar, insult the barkeep and loudly offer free chlamydia to anyone who wants to suck my dick.”AKA-Bodyswap fic where Ed is stuck in Roy's body and can't help himself.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 23
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Rei382 for this abomination.  
> Let's be real, who among us would be able to resist the temptation to touch ourselves if we were stuck in our crush's body? I'm just gonna hand wave all the consent issues for this fic and if you want to write me an essay on the ethical issues (or on my comma splices) then send me a DM on tumblr, and I'll do my best to ignore you.

It had taken most of the day for Ed to get his barrings in this stupidly overgrown body. The floor was only 2 inches further away than normal, but that made a huge difference while spread out through four limbs and a torso. Oh right, did he mention the four limbs? How the fuck did people just go around walking on two legs like it was normal? Automail always required a micro second longer to process nerve signals, so he had learned to walk, run, and even skip using one flesh leg and one made of whatever-the-hell Winry used in her ‘masterpiece’ Now that micro second was no longer an issue, he’d tripped more times than he could count just on the walk over to this stuffy house.

Roy had laughed at him initially, but he was the one trying to use automail without a tutorial, and Ed could easily put a great distance between them if he decided that he was tired of hearing Roy’s nonsense coming out in his voice. It was fucking weird to sit across from himself, and see exactly how many of Hohenhiem’s expressions he had accidentally inherited from the few short years that asshole had spent with them before fucking off to be a ‘hero’ or some shit. If he had thought the hair and the jawline made him look like that scumbag, he had not been prepared to see how his brow furrowed exactly in the way Von Hohenhiem’s did while reading, and how his lips pressed into a thin line while concentrating in exactly the same way that he had seen the asshole do while reading a newspaper as Al slept in a hospital bed. He’d buried the bastard, and yet he still couldn’t be freed of him. 

Well, no one had said he had to tolerate this crap while sober, so he headed for the fancy liquor cabinet that Mustang kept fully stocked, and grabbing the three biggest bottles, he headed back to the living room where Mustang was staring into the fire.

“We’ve been here for like 10 minutes, and you still haven’t offered me a drink.” Ed complained, letting the bottles clatter to the coffee table. He spotted two clean mugs on the kitchen counter and he brought them over as well. “You’re being a shit host, Mustang. Figures that you must have been raised in a barn with a name like that.”

“I believe I said ‘ _Mi casa es su casa_ ’ which is Cretan for ‘help yourself’ I would have thought that you of all people would know that.” 

Ed glared at Mustang. “Ya know, maybe I’ll go get a drink at a bar, insult the barkeep and loudly offer free chlamydia to anyone who wants to suck my dick.”

“Like hell you will.” Mustang said, the fury in his tone was deadly.

“Fuck off.” Ed sneered, “You can’t even walk, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I could revoke your brother’s travel visa and have him declared a spy and an enemy of the state. Have him permanently banished to Xing.”

Ed had Mustang by the throat in a split second. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.” He seethed, large hands easily wrapping themselves around his own more slender neck.

“ **ENOUGH** .”

Ed nearly died from surprise as he dropped Mustang back down to the sofa where he was moping.

“ **SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP** .” Hawkeye ordered, the toiletries she was carrying lay scattered on the ground.

Without a word Ed fell onto the sofa beside Mustang, eyes glued to the ground.

“I am done.” Hawkeye said, tone eerily flat. “ I have spent all day diverting attention from the mess you two have brought onto yourselves, and I. Am. Done.” She looked at the toothbrush she held in her hand, and with a violent slick of her wrist she sent it flying straight into the wall, where it shattered through the plaster, poking out like a perfectly thrown dart.

The sense of dread welling in Ed’s gut turned into a bone chilling terror, and he felt Mustang freeze beside him.

“I do not want to see either of you unless you have either returned to normal, or are being cremated.” Hawkeye clicked her heels together, and swiftly made her way to the front door followed by a wary Hayate.

For ten minutes neither of them moved. Ed stared down at his borrowed hands and felt the ache of the scar tissue that ran through both palms. Roy didn’t so much as breathe until the clock struck 8pm, and he cleared his throat.

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked quietly.

Ed nodded.

“What would you like.”

“Whatever this is.” Ed gestured to a dark green bottle.

Without another word, Mustang managed to balance himself long enough to reach for the bottle and pour its contents into the mismatched mugs. Ed was half expecting some comment about needing to get the proper glassware, but Roy simply offered him one of the handles, and Ed let the liquid burn down his throat.

They sat in silence, the crackling of the fireplace the only sound in the house that Roy had purchased almost a year ago. Ed had heard Havoc tell the story of how much time they’d spent planning a housewarming party, only to have Mustang fall ill with the flu on the weekend they had finally settled on. Apparently it was a rather contagious flu, as the next 2 months were spent with waves of soldiers calling in sick as the virus made its way through the barracks. 

“I must apologize.” Roy said, the words sounding unnatural in Ed’s voice. “I do not know what came over me. I had no right to speak to you like that, and I need you to know that I would never have acted upon my words.”

“Yeah,” Ed mumbled into his drink. “Sorry.”

He could see Roy looking at him from the corner of his eye, and he felt the shame wash over him as he remembered the fury on Hawkeye’s face.

“How’d she do that?” Ed asked, gesturing to the wall where the toothbrush stood out like the horn of a stampeding rhino.

Roy took a long sip of his drink, “I have learned that sometimes it is better to not know the answer to some things.” His leg gently brushed against Ed’s and there was a hint of a smile to his face. “However; I do happen to know that this one particular skill was honed over several months as part of a scheme to deter a certain self-importiant youth from asking her out on a date.”

“Uh-huh.” Ed said, “And did you ever learn your lesson?”

Roy clutched at his heart, “You wound me! I would never.” He sniffed, “She turned me down the day we met. I haven’t asked since.”

There was something so intrinsically ‘Roy’ about the way that he said those words, that not even Ed’s vocal cords could disguise. The combination of Ed’s own voice and Roy’s ridiculous intonations was so utterly absurd that Ed couldn’t help but double over with laughter. The tension of the day faded as Ed tried to gasp in a breath, and he felt the tears roll down his face as Roy began to shake beside him. The sound of Roy’s laugh coming out of Ed’s throat was so unexpected that it made him laugh even harder, and before they knew it, they were both leaning on each other lost in the ridiculousness of the situation.

The clock struck 9pm before they managed to stop giggling every time one of them said anything that sounded unnatural coming from the wrong body. They’d moved on from the green bottle to the blue one, and Ed was feeling just tipsy enough to lament the fact that the Roy who sat across from him did not look like his usual hot self, but rather like a tired blond.

“This had better wear off like that idiot said.” Ed muttered, throwing his head back and watching the room swim around him.

“Hmm.” Roy agreed. 

It was stupid, but ever since he had come back from Creta he had spent every minute of his time in Mustang’s presence, staring at him and drinking in his perfectly symmetrical face. He was a fucking idiot, but he really couldn’t help it. How could anyone? Roy was fit as all fuck, smart as hell, and carried himself with enough confidence to compensate for at least a dozen men. Winry had once called him out on his ‘daddy issues’ and Ed had never been able to deny the fact that he was attracted to older, smarmy bastards who saw him as someone to care for. Not that Ed couldn’t take care of himself, he’d clearly proven that he could, but there was something about the way that Roy would get him coffee, or offer to get him lunch that made his insides melt into useless goo. Perhaps he shouldn’t have gone back to the military, but Maria Ross had asked so nicely, and he was having a lot of fun in investigations, even if it meant that he didn’t work in the same office as Roy. It really was stupid, but fuck if Ed knew how to stop being an idiot. Pity Hohenhiem was dead, he got off too easily considering all the damage he did to Ed’s psyche. 

“You should sleep in my bed.” Roy said, drinking the last of his mug. “My back doesn’t handle sleeping on the sofa very well.”

“Ha.” Ed snorted, “If you so much as think of sleeping on anything but a mattress I will refuse to go back into that body for at least a day.”

“Oh? Has old age caught up with you too?” Roy asked.

“Shut up. I’m only 20 but do you know the weight difference between a metal arm and a flesh one?”

Roy shook his head.

“A fuck load.” He said. “Ever since I got my arm back, my spine has given me hell for the years I had automail. It’s like all the pain from back then just got put on hold and then got dropped on me out of the blue.” Ed winced at the memory. “I used to sleep on trains, but now I risk paralysis if I so much as hunch while I read.”

“Well then, I propose we share my bed as it is very comfortable, and unlikely to delay your return to your own body.”

“What?” Ed asked.”No spare room?”

“I--ahem never quite got around to furnishing the spare bedroom.” Roy said.

“You’ve lived here for ages!” Ed exclaimed.

“10 months,” Roy corrected. “The first two months were spent either being sick, or covering for someone who had fallen sick, and then there was the Drachma situation, and then the whole debacle with the Ambassador, followed by General Bess’ untimely retirement---”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ed interrupted, “I get it. Forget I ever asked.”

“You are always welcome to help by unpacking the boxes in the spare room. I haven’t had the time to finish unpacking all of my stuff.” Roy said.

“Feed me breakfast, and I’ll consider it.” Ed said, rising to his feet. The room swayed around him, but it wasn’t too bad considering how hum he had drunk. “Anyways, I’m going to take a shower. Don’t wait up.”

“If you must.” Roy said, “I showered this morning, but it had been a rather stressful day.”

Ed wrinkled his borrowed nose, “yeah, I can tell.”

“Shower’s upstairs on the right. Use the green soap not the pink one, and make sure you use conditioner, otherwise my hair refuses to cooperate.” Roy said before glazing at the toothbrush in the wall. “And--ah, don’t forget your toothbrush. I’ll be down here working on some reports as part of a peace offering for the Lieutenant Colonel.”

Ed nodded, and with a swift motion removed the offending item from the plaster and made his way towards the bathroom.

* * *

* * *

The bathroom was adjacent to Roy’s bedroom, which Ed glanced at and was relieved to notice held a king-sized bed, and enough pillows to build a solid wall to divide the bed should Roy turn out to be a sleep-cuddle monster. Ed wasn’t really paying attention, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he tripped, yet again, and found himself flat on the tiled floor staring at the bathroom ceiling wondering where he had gone wrong. The universe fucking hated him, and he wanted to know if it was because of the human transmutation, or if his mere existence had pissed off the universe. With a groan he stood up, and froze. He stood, leaning on the sink staring at his reflection in the large mirror. He’d been too busy all day trying to figure out why he was in the wrong body, and he hadn’t really had a moment to really look at himself.

Thick lashes hovered over dark eyes, and Ed couldn’t help but contort those features into the seductive smirk that he had seen gracing Roy’s face so often. The blush that rose in his cheeks ruined the illusion, but Ed couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help flushing when he saw Roy looking like that, and having to look in the mirror and try to keep cool was impossible. He shook his head, willing some sense back into it, but instead all he managed to do was catch a glimpse of the blush extending down his neck and down the bit of chest that the unbuttoned dress shirt revealed. Ed looked down at himself, noting the unkempt uniform he still wore. The jacket and cavalry skirt had long been abandoned, but the trousers and belt were still firmly in place. A quick glance at the door showed it to be closed, and Ed silently flipped the lock. Earlier he had managed to urinate and keep his hands to himself, but now he was tired, tipsy, and more than a little curious. It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it?

Carefully Ed flicked buttons open, letting the shirt hang off broad shoulders, and he gaped as he looked in the mirror. Roy looked back out at him. Strong collarbones, muscled biceps, and tantalizing traces of hair that lead down past his belt. Ed scrambled to roll up the sleeves of the white shirt, and was barely able to make eye contact with his reflection as the image of a dishevelled Roy burned itself into his retinas. He slightly shifted his position, angling his hips forward, and he nearly cried as that pornographic image smouldered at him in the glass. 

With shaking hands, Ed loosened the belt, letting the pants fall to reveal more of the dark hair, and Ed felt every drop of blood evacuate his head and pool in his groin. The growing bulge assisted in keeping the pants hovering in just the right spot, and Ed leaned back against the wall, pretending for a moment that he was on his knees before the man in the mirror. That image sent a gut wrenching flood of lust through him, and Ed gasped as he doubled over. He could feel the heat building, and without thinking he kicked off the trousers, and reached into the black briefs to catch a hold of Roy’s dick, and stroke it in practised motions.

It was an odd sensation to be holding a penis that was thicker than his own. An animalistic part of his brain gloated over the fact that Roy’s dick was no longer than his own, even if it did have a slighter greater girth, and seemed to sit more heavily in his hand. Another lingering stroke left him gasping, and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he bit back on a cry and came so hard he slid down the wall to sit in a puddle of his own mess surrounded by the rich smell of Roy’s sweat. 

Well shit.

* * *

* * *

Roy stared at the documents in his lap. He had been staring at them for well over a minute, and he could hear Ed stumbling around upstairs. He was certain that he’d never been so ungainly in his entire life, even including the times he had challenged Maes to a drinking contest, but he really wasn’t one to talk considering that Riza had had to push him around in a wheelchair seeing as he couldn’t get the automail to work for him. 

The day had been very stressful, and he really hadn’t meant to snap on Ed like that, but clearly they had both been on edge, and it had only been a matter of time before one of them broke. It hadn’t helped that Ed’s body was that of a normal 20-year-old man, and constantly insisted on reminding Roy that it desperately wanted to be touched. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been this sensitive at this age, but perhaps Ed’s unconventional teen years had resulted in a libido that was extremely sensitive to the most minute stimuli. Some hidden and much despised voice in his head whispered that perhaps this had something to do with spending the whole day with Roy, but he’d dismissed that thought as overly vain and nonsensical. Edward was simply a young man, who could maintain half an erection for hours on end. It would have been kind of fun, if it hadn’t been so torturous.

A loud thud came from upstairs, and Roy rolled his eyes. If Edward fell any more times he doubted there wouldn’t be a spot on his body that wasn’t bruised. For some reason the thought of bruised skin relit the fire in his gut, and Roy groaned. He was too old for this! The right thing would be to somehow make it to the kitchen and make some tea--oh wait. He was going to have to share his bed with Edward.

The thought of Ed in his bed made his cock twitch, and Roy realized he had a decision to make. Either ignore the problem and risk coming in his sleep, or taking the issue in hand, and hopefully avoiding the first scenario. There were at least seven different ethical issues with the second option, but none of them seemed to matter the instant his hand slid into his trousers. Blindly he reached for an afghan, which he lay over his lap, while he tossed the reports aside, and let himself bask in the feel of a cock, not his own.

Edward’s prick felt similar to his own, but the hair at the base wasn’t as coarse, and it seemed to prefer faster and harder strokes. Roy’s hips bucked into his hand, and he felt the sudden urge to pull on the ponytail. A quick jerk made his breath hitch, so he loosened the elastic and grabbed a handful of golden strands, weaving them through his knuckles as he tugged. The sensation left him gasping, and he tightened his grip on the hair only to let out a choked cry as warm cum coated his hand.

Upstairs the shower had just turned on, and Roy lay back on the sofa, sampling the taste of unfamiliar cum.


	2. Chapter 2

Ed had been wrong. So very  _ very  _ wrong. There were no papers on the subject, and there certainly hadn’t been a control test, but it should have been obvious that touching this borrowed body had been a mistake.

The bathroom door knob was a very shiny brass knob that had clear signs of wear, and a scratch from some long ago object, and Ed was terrified of it. The knob, in all its unimpressive glory, symbolized the outside world where he would have to face Mustang and pretend that he hadn’t just broken at least 50 different rules of basic human decency. He’d had his fair share of guilty wanking sessions, he was human after all, but none of them had made him question his morality so much as this one. What kind of man allowed himself to milk pleasure out of someone else's body without their consent? What kind of creep let their hands run over another body without the knowledge of the other person? A loud, obnoxious, and not-totally-wrong part of his mind was screaming that it wasn’t a violation because this was currently  _ his _ body, but if that was true then why did he feel so disgusting? 

Granny had once said that “if it feels wrong, it probably is.” Ed cringed, did it matter that it felt right at the time? Did it matter that the right felt wrong?

Yes. Yes it did matter, and yes it was wrong, and yes he would have to live with that. Fortunately it wasn’t the kind of thing he actually had to confess and apologize for, so there was that minor relief. Ed sighed, and finally reached for the door knob. With a deep breath settling his nerves, he turned it and stepped out of the misty bathroom. Everything was fine, it would be his secret.

A secret this body instantly betrayed when every single capillary in Roy’s stupid handsome face burst wide and allowed a burning sensation to flood across his face. Ed stared at himself, body stiff, and face equally flushed, even though Roy-in-Ed’s-body was fully clothed, and Ed-in-Roy’s-body was only wearing a tightly wound towel. Roy had no business looking that embarrassed, he was staring at his own mostly-naked body after all.

“I-Uh-” Ed began, the sound of his voice startling him out of his stupor. “Where’re your pyjamas?” Ed asked, hoping the flush would dissipate before his face exploded.

“Top drawer on the right.” Roy answered, not quite managing to shake off the terrified expression before pointing to his drawer set.

“Thanks.” Ed muttered, as he set a safe distance between himself and Roy. He hadn’t even opened the drawer when the sight of the bed pulled every muscle tight and made his mind freeze. Shit. He had agreed to share the bed! Why the fuck had he done that? He felt his mouth open, but he caught the words that tried to slip out. No. He couldn’t take it back! If he changed his mind, Roy would think he was acting weird and then he might--no, he couldn’t back out without making Roy suspicious. Fuck!

The sound of dragging footsteps made him remember what the hell he was doing, and he quickly pulled out whatever fabric his hand could grab inside the drawer.

“Could you please pass me the blue pyjamas?” Roy asked, leaning on the door frame.

Ed stared at him dumbly for a moment before quickly locating the item in question. Balling it up he aimed it at Roy, but the extra arm length made him miss, and they both watched as the fabric landed at Roy’s feet.

Roy smirked, the expression so unusual on Ed’s face that it caught him off guard. “I--”

“Shut it.” Ed said, flipping him the finger and turning to shake out the pyjamas. They were a pale green stripy monstrosity with buttons and cuffs. Ed wouldn’t be caught dead in them, but at least if he died during the night, no one would know it was him.

His hands reached for a towel and hesitated, Roy hadn’t left yet, and it wouldn’t be appropriate to--oh right-- this was Roy’s body, and if the man’s prissiness was anything to go by, he’d probably spent more time staring at himself in the mirror than anyone else in the country. A tug allowed the towel to fall to the floor, and Ed did his best to step into the pants without falling and cracking his skull open on the dresser. The back of his head burned, and he didn’t have to turn around to know Roy was checking him out.

“Really?” Ed said, managing to pour atleast a decade’s worth of disbelief into his tone. “This is your body, ya know?” He turned as he pulled the pant drawstrings tight.

“Well-it’s not often that I get to view myself from this angle.” Roy said, shrugging. “I wanted to make sure that all that time I put into physical activity is worth it.”

“You know perfectly well that it is.” Ed said, pulling the shirt on and scowling. “No need to fucking brag, Mustang. Some of us work out to kick asses, not just to look pretty.”

“Are you saying I look pretty?” Roy asked, his tone somewhere between flirtatious and curious.

Ed gave the ceiling a long, unimpressed exhale. 

“I’ll have you know that I aim to ‘kick asses’ while looking pretty.”

“Fucking hell.” Ed cursed as he stalked towards Roy. “Not everyone wins the fucking genetic lottery, you asshole. No need to brag about something you had absolutely nothing to do with.” Ed was going to punch him through a wall, but apparently Mustang didn’t get the message.

“Oh, so you think I am attractive?” Roy asked, morphing Ed’s face into some never-before-seen expression of bastardliness. 

Ed was really going to punch him. He hadn’t punched anyone in at least a month, Al wouldn’t fault him. He clenched his fists but managed to storm across to the other side of the room where a dark window stood, reflecting the room like a mirror. He wasn’t 12, he wasn’t going to let Roy bait him into doing something as stupid as punching himself in the face. He was simply going to pent up the anger until he could flesh out a plan on how to dispose of the bastard without going to prison.

“Well, I must say that it is quite the honour to hear such a compliment from a fellow genetic lottery winner.” Roy said.

“What?” The question was out of his mouth before Ed had even processed the words. He turned his head to look at the bastard with what was likely to be the biggest ‘wtf’ expression he had ever seen.

Roy shrugged, “I believe I said--”

“No, shut up! What do you mean ‘fellow genetic lottery winner’?” Ed asked.

Roy’s eyes widened slightly, and he gestured at himself with an open palm. “That is exactly what I meant. You’ve had this body for your whole life, so I assume you have occasionally come in contact with a mirror.”

“Uh- yeah,” Ed said, “I even met my bastard of a father. It was like a 3D mirror. I’m still pissed.”

Roy’s eyebrows were inching towards the ceiling. “Your father was also a winning recipient of the genetic lottery.” He said, like he wasn’t totally fucking insane.

Ed wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

“And,” Roy began, stepping into the dimly lit room, the automail leg dragging. “If you stopped thinking of your father every time you looked in the mirror, perhaps you wouldn’t look like I have lost my mind.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Ed asked, tone incredulous.

Roy sighed, “Alright. Humour me Edward.” He sat on the foot of the bed. “Take a minute and look at me without thinking about any family resemblance. Try to see yourself through the eyes of a date.”

Ed opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Roy gave him a knowing look. Crossing his arms he leaned back on the window, the cold glass tensing his shoulders. 

Roy dropped the clothing he was holding, and lifted a hand to undo the ponytail. Golden hair cascaded around his face, and rested on the white shirt Ed had worn under his uniform. Roy was only wearing Ed’s work shirt, and uniform trousers, but he somehow managed to position himself in such a way that both items looked tailored. Ed pursed his lips, as Roy leaned back on his elbows, hitched his flesh leg onto the bed, and turned his head at just the right angle to highlight his collarbones, and allow the hair to gleam in the light. Their eyes met, and something like Roy’s usual self-satisfied smirk grace reminded Ed that he wasn’t looking in a mirror. On the one hand, Ed could see the clear resemblance to Von Hohenheim, but on the other he could distance himself just enough to see that, perhaps someone with poor eyesight might be able to consider him attractive. He was pretty sure that anyone else would spot the shoulder scarring, and the mess of his leg from a mile away. Did it matter that his face was relatively symmetrical while the rest of him wasn’t?

As if reading his thoughts Roy said, “Just because you see something as a flaw, does not mean that it detracts from your appearance, rather, oftentimes it simply enhances it.”

Embarrassment made his shoulders hunch, and Ed broke eye contact, “Sure.”

“Do you think my scars detract from my appearance?” Roy asked, sitting up.

“No.” Ed said, recalling the sight of Roy’s body in the bathroom mirror. 

“Would I be less attractive if I had an automail limb?”

Ed’s mind offered a few mental images of Roy with a metal leg. “No.” He said.

“Would I be truly disfigured if I had a facial scar?”

“Urgh,” Ed said, “Fine, I get it. You’d look good with an eyepatch. Lucky you.”

“That isn’t my point, and you know it.” Roy said.

“Yeah, well. I’m tired.” Ed pulled the curtains closed before collapsing on one side of the bed.

“Very well then.” Roy said, standing up and beginning to remove the trousers. “I’ll make sure the word get out that you are single. Maybe a dozen girls chasing you down headquarters will convince you.”

“Don’t want girls.” Ed muttered into the crook of his arm where he was subtly watching Roy undress. “If I wanted girls, I’d have married Winry.”

Roy paused, one automail limb halfway through the pant leg. “My apologies, I should know better than to assume.”

“Hmm.” Ed said. Maybe Mustang had a point, Ed’s body didn’t look half bad from this angle, and at least he only had the one scar on his back. Al had once told him he had a nice butt, and Ed had to agree that it wasn’t a terrible one.

“Although, I assure you that there aren’t a shortage of men who would be very interested in pursuing you through headquarters, if that is what you’d prefer.”

“I’d prefer no one chase me.” Ed said, “It’ll be the spring soon, and I can’t run very well when it's raining.”

“I didn’t mean it to be quite that literal.” Roy said, turning to face him, and Ed got a good look at the scars he saw every time he looked down at himself.

“With my luck, it’ll be just that literal.” Ed said, “I once agreed to start seeing this one guy, and guess what? I never stopped seeing him. Fucker stalked me for months.”

“I hope you showed him exactly what you thought of him.” Roy said.

“Yup.” Ed grinned, “Why do you think I had to leave Creta?”

Roy smiled, “Good.” He said, as he slipped under the covers. Ed watched him flip a switch, and he stared into the darkness until his eyes adjusted enough to see Roy through the warm lights from the street that crept through the curtains.

The house was silent, and the bed was large enough to grant him and Roy plenty of space, but despite the wide space between them, the night seemed to make the distance between them irrelevant. All Ed could hear was Roy’s quiet breathing, and the occasional creak of the automail as it adjusted positions. If he stayed still enough, he might just be able to feel Roy’s heartbeat through the mattress.

Minutes stretched, before Roy broke the silence.

“I am sorry for losing my temper earlier this evening.” 

Ed turned onto his side to face him. “Yeah, me too.”

“I suppose I was tired and--”

“Whatever.” Ed interrupted, “it's fine, we were both assholes, and Hawkeye had every right to be pissed.”

Roy laughed quietly, “I haven’t seen her that angry since Maes dumped me for Gracia.”

Ed froze, he really couldn’t have heard that correctly.  _ “What?” _ He managed.

“To be fair,” Roy began, “Maes didn’t know he was dumping me. He thought we were friends with benefits, and I suppose I hadn’t been clear enough about my belief that we were much more than that.”

“Oh.” 

“It took me a while to convince Riza that the whole thing was no one’s fault, and that shooting Maes wouldn’t solve anything.” He sighed, “Maes was so gone for Gracia he didn’t even notice how I couldn’t even say her name without choking. Of course, once I met her I understood, and in the end, I couldn’t even imagine anyone better for him.”

“I’m sorry.” Ed said, finding that there really wasn’t anything else he could manage with his mind whirring through every instance he had seen them interact. Hughes was always talking about Gracia, and Ed hadn’t been old enough to realize that adults had pasts that were different to their present.

Roy made a half laugh sound that Ed recognized as the sound he made when he was desperately trying to hide something. It was the sound he had made whenever anyone asked him about his mother, and it was the sound he had made every time he thought about Nina. He knew that sound well, he could feel the way it dried his throat and made it impossible to swallow. Maes had died years ago, but pain like that doesn’t disappear overnight. Tentatively Ed stretched out his hand until it found Roy’s, and gingerly, he squeezed his hand in an attempt to convey his sympathy without using inadequate words. Roy immediately accepted the touch, and Ed strained his eyes to try and see their joined hands. It was meant to be a brief touch, a simple gesture of understanding, but moments passed, and neither seemed willing to let go. Ed was fixated by the thrill of electricity he felt running through the hand he had out stretched, and Roy seemed to need the connection just as much.

Breathing was remarkably difficult to do when every neuron in your head was focused entirely on the sensation of another person’s hand in your own, and later Ed would blame his actions on simple oxygen deprivation. His hand was wrapped around Roy’s, but it wasn’t enough. Over the years Ed had grown to be less impulsive, but that didn’t mean that he always stopped himself from doing something unbelievably stupid, something like slowly loosen his grip and rotate his hand so that he could intertwine Roy’s fingers with his own.

In the dark, Ed could feel Roy staring at him, but neither of them moved. The only sounds in the room were the occasional tinkling from a neighbours wind chimes, and the distant sound of dogs barking. Neither if them breathed for ages, until Ed felt Roy press their fingers closer together, and he found himself being tugged across the bed until his face was flush with Roy’s.

“Ed?” Roy breathed, and that was all Ed needed. A simple twist and his hand was wrapped around long hair, and they were kissing, mouths parted, and breathing ragged. The incomparable feeling of kissing Roy was enough to make Ed’s head spin. Flashes of images from what he had seen in the bathroom mirror filled his mind making his heart pound. There were hands pulling him in closer, and he could barely breathe. Instinctively he wrapped his free hand tighter into the hair he knew he liked having pulled, and Roy threw his head up with a gasp, eyes wide open just as a pair of headlights lit the room up just enough for Ed to see Roy’s reaction. There were a series of responses Ed kind of expected in this situation, but nothing prepared him for the sudden shift from arousal to shock, and the instant flinch. All the air left Ed’s body, and he felt a well of shame threatening to destroy him.

The arms around him loosened, and Roy pulled back enough to sit up, panting for breath. The silence lasted for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

“Shit.” Roy breathed, and Ed’s concern increased ten-fold as he had only heard Roy curse once before, and those were extenuating circumstances.

“My god, Ed.” Roy exhaled, a slight tremor shaking his voice.”

“Are you alright?” Ed asked, wringing his hands together and wondering if there was anyway he could slink back to his place.

“I--” Roy began, but he began to laugh before he could continue. 

Ed stared at him. Maybe Mustang had finally lost it. After all these years the thing that pushed him over the edge was realizing that Ed was kissing him. 

Roy’s laughter became louder, and Ed sat up in concern.

“I--” Roy repeated, but once again he failed to complete the sentence.

Ed began to slide towards the edge of the bed, readying himself to make an escape--Hawkeye’s wrath be damned--but Roy’s hand reached out and stopped him.

“No!” Roy said, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I opened my eyes and all I could see was my own face. I honestly thought that either I was hallucinating or that Envy had come back from the dead to impersonate me.” He heaved a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I think that shock just took a decade off my life.”

“Oh.” Ed said, “Let go, I--”

Roy looked at him. The room was back to being too dark to see much, but even in the dim light Ed could see the flash of heat in Roy’s eyes. “Edward, I--- Would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

Ed stared at him.

“I just--” Roy ran a hand through his hair and seemed surprised when his fingers got tangled. “I would prefer to get to know you better when you look more like yourself and less like me.”

The sudden flood of relief also threatened to overwhelm him. Honestly Ed was done with these violent mood swings. “Yeah--I--sure, sounds nice.”

“Wonderful.” Roy said. “I suppose it would be interesting to suck my own dick, but one more shock like that, and I think I might actually require medical attention.”

Ed snorted, “Didn’t realize you were old enough to have cardiac problems.”

“I suppose I have simply led a rather stressful life.” Roy said, falling back onto the pillows. “Hey,” He gently tugged Ed’s arm. “Come on, this should wear off soon enough, and then I’ll have the pleasure of taking you out to my favourite Drachman restaurant, and I can watch you inhale the entire buffet.”

“So you’re serious?” Ed asked.

“Deadly.” Roy said, grip tightening.

“Alright.” Ed said, carefully lowering himself back down. 

“Good.” Roy said, his hand sliding down Ed’s arm to his hand. “Good night, Ed.”

“Night, Roy.” Ed managed, as he felt warm fingers caressing his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this didn't go where I thought it was going (I was very tempted to write about them eating their own asses lol) but then this happened and I don't know anymore. I hope it's not too poorly written.


End file.
